


Strong at the Broken Places

by rabbitwriter



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM Scene, Baras Is Dead, Body Modification, Cock Piercing, Dominance, Dominant Female Character, F/M, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Light Side Sith Warrior, Married Couple, Military Kink, Nipple Piercings, Pegging, Post-Quinncident, Punishment, Second Chances, Shibari, Sith Pureblood, Sith Warrior Storyline Spoilers, Submission, Submissive Male Character, Tattooed Quinn, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitwriter/pseuds/rabbitwriter
Summary: Quinn had gotten it all wrong - he had never belonged to Baras. He belonged to the woman who had saved him, who had loved him, who had forgiven him. That realization hits a little too late, but that same woman is willing to give him a second chance - provide he pays a price for what he's done. "Passion is what has always made us strong,” she said. “Passion is what will make us right." || Pay attention to the tags, kiddos. This is exactly what it says on the label.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The D/s dynamic between the Female Sith Warrior and Malavai Quinn is simply too good for me to ignore. Please note though, they explore some territory here that might not be everyone's cup of tea. So, again - READ THE TAGS. And if you don't know what some of the terms are, look 'em up before diving in. This is kinky, yo.
> 
> With that being said...
> 
> FSW and Quinn are one of my favorite pairings in SWTOR, primarily because of their personalities (especially when you play to the Light Side). The push-and-pull of power between them is pretty interesting. Although, this being a PG game (PG-13?), you've gotta' read between the lines. One thing about them has always bothered me, though, and that's the voice acting during the whole Quinncident scene. Those two are tone-deaf, I swear. I just can't get over how...business-like the two are. Tell me I'm not the only one. Great story twist - poor inter-personal execution.
> 
> I tried to "fix" some of that in this first chapter, as the two finally talk about what happened. As tagged, this is with a Light Side Warrior, so she chooses to forgive Quinn (after slapping the sh*t out of him and throwing him against the wall, mind you). Choosing to forgive someone after a betrayal...that takes some real guts, a lot of faith, and a healthy dose of love. Even then, those things aren't always enough to rebuild a relationship. Light Sided or not, forgiving or not, I just can't see the SW letting Malavai off the hook (which is sort of what it feels like afterwards). There's gotta' be some retribution, there, to set the balance between them straight.
> 
> This is the SW, though, so...sex. And kinky sex at that. To feel like there's any redemption to be had, I think Malavai would have to go to some pretty severe lengths to prove that he's sincere. I think the SW is dominant and passionate enough to ask him to prove his sincerity by completely giving up his control. With that line of thought, comes the following...

_"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."_ \- **Ernest Hemingway**

* * *

 

“You called for me, m’lord?”

Malavai stood uncomfortably in the doorway of the quarters that he had shared with Karn’za for almost a whole year before what she and Pierce were privately calling “the Quinncident”. Upon returning from the transponder station, the Emperor’s Wrath had sent her captain packing to the berth he had occupied before they’d started their romantic relationship. It had been almost a whole month since he’d last stepped into what had once been _their_ room; it had almost been a whole month since he’d seen her at all. She’d left him with the ship while she tore her way through Corellia, taking everyone - in turn - with her but him.

So, he'd been understandably surprised when he'd received a curt summons to Karn’za’s chambers on his datapad. After quickly making sure that the autopilot was engaged, the captain left Vette in charge of the bridge and made a beeline for her room.

“Inside, Captain,” she ordered, as soon as his shadow fell over the threshold.

It was dark inside the room; the only illumination was a pair of ambient red lights above the bed. He could sense her, though, sitting in the far left corner, at the computer terminal that also served as her desk. The computer itself was either powered down, or "asleep", as she sat completely in shadow. The door slid shut behind him as soon as he cleared the frame and Quinn couldn’t quite suppress a shiver - Karn’za rarely used her Force powers for mundane tasks, unless she was trying to intimidate.

“Now that Corellia is behind us, it occurs to me that you and I haven not properly discussed the ramifications of what happened at the transponder station.”

Quinn felt his heart plummet toward his boots. Here was the part that Pierce kept talking about, the part where she ordered him out the airlock. Or, worse, where she handed him orders to a new duty station and out of her life. He couldn’t blame her, though…she deserved justice for what he had done. Moreover, she deserved justice that _satisfied_ her. He had to fight the urge to hang his head and consider the floor.

If she used the Force to sense his thoughts, he hadn’t felt it - and after several long, long years of submitting to Baras’ mental fuckery, Quinn was quite familiar with what it felt like when a Force-user tried to scan his thoughts. But, her next words almost directly echoed what he had been thinking; perhaps, after all, she simply knew him that well.

“I have considered exacting revenge for what you’ve done, Captain. The thought was quite appealing for a time, during my earlier days on Corellia. But, I promised to forgive you - or at least, to try. I gave you my word and I will honor it.”

Maybe it was his imagination, but “ _unlike you_ ” seemed to echo in the sharp silence that followed. Quinn found his eyes sliding past her shadowed silhouette to consider the darkness beyond it. He stood at parade rest out of habit, but for once, his shoulders didn’t pull back with their customary pride and confidence. It was impossible to have either in the face of her judgment and in the aftermath of what he had done.

“Also, I wish to clarify why I haven’t told the crew anything and why I’ve told Lieutenant Pierce that I will personally carve out his tongue if he betrays my confidence,” her voice was hard and Quinn unconsciously flinched at the sound of it - in private, behind closed doors, he had grown accustomed to a soft, languid, even _gentle_ version of her voice.

This was the voice she reserved for those she disdained - for _Baras_ \- and if throwing himself at her feet and groveling would mend the chasm between them that he had created, he would have found no shame in doing it. He would do anything to hear that voice she had always, before, reserved for him and him alone. _Anything_.

“I have worked too hard and too long to create an appropriate respect for the chain of command among this crew,” she continued coldly. “I found your request for confidence to be insufferably self-serving, but I saw and do see your point. You have come to enjoy a very particular position of power among the seven of us and it is a position that I need you to maintain. What happened at the transponder station will stay our own business, as I have promised. But do not ever make the mistake of thinking that I have agreed to keep your betrayal from the crew for any other reason than that I do not wish to quell a mutiny on my own behalf.”

“Yes, m’lord,” oh, the shame that roiled through him. “I understand completely.”

“However,” her tone shifted again, although this time it was subtle and Quinn couldn’t quite name the emotion beneath it. “Your actions in my absence on Corellia earned the praise of Lord Vowrawn - who is not given to granting empty accolades,” she paused and Quinn honestly wondered where the conversation was going. “I was proud of you, Malavai,” the use of his name - not his rank, not his last name, but _his_ name - made him quiver with the force of his repressed emotions. “And I have spent the time since then coming to terms with the fact that I still love you, my foolish, stupid traitor.”

“Karn’za…” his whisper trailed off before he could go much further; anything beyond her name stuck in his throat.

She did not speak, but instead let him stand before her and struggle with the force of his contrition, his regret, his guilt. Finally, the words he had so desperately wanted to say to her since the transponder station found their way past the lump in his throat.

“I love you, m’lord. I always have, since the very first day…” even he startled himself with that admission - it was the absolute truth, though it had taken him nearly a whole year to both accept it and act upon it. “I am so very sorry for what I’ve done to you. To us.”

“I have no wish for you to be sorry, Captain,” there was steel in her words, but her voice was suddenly soft. “I have no wish for you to be dead, or to be gone, or belong to any other. But, I must exact my price for what you’ve done.”

“Anything,” Quinn vowed, his own voice thick with passion. “I will do _anything_.”

“Anything?” she repeated, her voice still soft, but there was an edge that made Quinn’s body still.

“Yes, m’lord,” he swallowed hard; he knew better than anyone, perhaps, how _creative_ she could get.

She surprised him, however, by withholding her judgment for just a few moments more.

“Shortly after I first took you to this bed,” now that his eyes had adjusted to light, he could see her arm rise, as if motioning toward the bed to their right. “You tried to run from me, by suggesting that relationships like ours, between Sith and their military subordinates, most often turned…” she paused, as if searching for the right word. “ _Sour_. Usually to the misfortune of the subordinate. Yet, the great irony of all of this, is that it was the subordinate who tried to turn on his lord.”

Quinn simply couldn’t hold his bearing any longer. He finally hung his head, utterly undone by her point.

“Did you think me weak, Captain?” her anger abruptly flared and Quinn winced. “Because I have chosen a path among the Sith that values simple decency above my own ambitions? Did you mistake the strength of my character as a flaw, a tactical liability?”

“I-I don’t know, m’lord,” Quinn admitted after a moment’s reluctant self-reflection. “I don’t think I’ve ever consciously thought that of you. Although…” he cleared his throat nervously, as he sensed that the honesty of his words was being carefully measured. “Although you are unlike any other Sith I’ve ever met - unlike even most Imperials, military or otherwise. I…I suppose that…I probably did, subliminally, think those things a weakness in you.”

He remembered the arguments they had often had behind closed doors - either on the bridge, or in here. He had often thought her too lenient. Perhaps she had a point. Perhaps thinking her weak hadn’t been such a subliminal perception after all.

“Anyone else would have killed you,” Karn’za’s voice was cold. “But, it is everyone else who is _weak_. It takes greater strength to show compassion, to have restraint, to bestow second chances. Never make the mistake of thinking otherwise, again.”

She was right and he would have been a greater fool for denying that.

“I assure you, m’lord, I won’t.”

The Emperor help him, he meant it. Never again. Never, _never_ again.

“And so we come again to the matter of resolution,” she stirred and Quinn wished that she could see her face, to know perhaps something of what she was feeling, as her voice presently betrayed nothing. “We both know that punishment is in order - that it is the right and just course of action,” she took a deep breath and then… “I have decided upon your punishment, Captain,” her voice flowed over him, cool and impersonal.

Quinn tried not to show the fear that now turned his veins to ice. She continued on as if she didn’t notice a thing - but, of course she did. He was as naked before the Wrath emotionally, as he had been many times before physically.

“I considered quite a few different avenues of pain and humiliation,” she shifted again in her seat and Quinn warily eyed her shape against the darkened bulkhead. “But, I’ve decided that your punishment should ultimately please me. So, with that in mind,” she paused for just a moment and when she spoke again, Quinn could have sworn that he heard a smile in her voice. “It is customary for Sith men to pierce themselves. I would have you do the same.”

It took the straight-laced captain a few minutes to fathom her meaning.

“M’lord?” he asked almost automatically in confusion.

She finally stood up and sauntered over to him; in the red-tinted dimness, he heard her move more clearly than he saw her. Even so, he nearly jumped out of his uniform when her hand abruptly came to rest on the center of his chest. Karn’za laughed that rich, sultry laugh of hers, as her small hand palmed a path down the length of his torso, toward his belt. Quinn gasped when she cupped him between his spread legs and squeezed.

“Your cock, Captain,” now her voice was a purr against his ear and Quinn had to bite back a whimper. “Will you have it pierced for me?”

“Y-you’re giving me a choice, m’lord?”

Her fingers did not relinquish their grip, but her voice softened a fraction.

“You do not deserve it…but yes.”

“This would…satisfy you?” he pushed, cautiously.

“I deserve blood, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“And your greatest downfalls are pride and vanity. Humiliation is an effective antidote to such flaws. Modifying your body to please me provides both - blood and humiliation. And, incidentally, a fair amount of pain,” her golden eyes met his and for a moment, they measured one another. “There is more that I will require, but this would be an acceptable start.”

“There are other ways…” Quinn continued to push - it was his way and thankfully, she did not seem to take offense.

“Passion is what has always made us strong,” she shook her head, her mind clearly set on the matter. “Passion is what will make us right. I have thought of other punishments, but they have all felt hollow and petty. This one pleases me.”

She finally let go of his crotch and Quinn took a deep breath. In the beginning of their relationship, they had been equals in sex. As she came to trust him, she had admitted her desperate need to not always be the one in control, to not always be the one with power. Quinn had been honored by that trust - and oh, how poorly he had repaid it. The thing of it was, he had never been submissive in the bedroom - nearly seven years her senior, he had begun their relationship with a fairly established understanding of his own sexual desires. He loved control - thrived off of it. That had frightened many of his partners in the past; the knowledge that Karn’za was his match in that regard, was what had attracted him so hopelessly to her. And it was that deep-seated craving for power, for control, that Baras had used so deftly against him.

Quinn had never submitted fully to another before - not even Baras, except when finally forced to do so, with all other alternatives taken from him. He had certainly never submitted _sexually_. But, if it pleased Karn’za…

It was the thought of pleasing her, of proving himself to her, of earning back her trust in him, that made his choice obvious. His blind pursuit of control had hurt her; he had submitted to the wrong master and been hurt himself. What was, on one hand a punishment, could on another hand, be their chance to start anew. Slowly, Quinn knelt down on one knee at Karn’za’s feet.

“As you wish, m’lord. What would you have me do?”

Her eyes flashed wide for a moment - she hadn’t expected him to accept. That was followed by a subtle smile. Quinn realized, in that moment, that this was all he ever needed - not rank, not military command, not prestige. Pleasing her - having the chance to please her - filled a hole within him that he hadn’t ever realized was there.

“I will drop you off in Kaas City, before I head on to Korriban. In my absence, you will meet up with a contact of mine and…” she reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, before suddenly closing them in a fist and jerking his head back so that he was forced to look at her; so help him, the strength behind the action made his passion abruptly stir. “You will have your cock pierced for me," she paused. "And, perhaps…tattooed?”

Now he was confused. She wanted him to pierce _and_ tattoo his…? She seemed to sense his misunderstanding, as she quickly explained herself.

“Not your cock, but the rest of you - black lines against that pale skin of yours would be exquisite, I think.”

“As you say, m’lord,” Quinn whispered after a moment of consideration.

He did have to remind himself that she was giving him a choice. He could say no to either and could ask for another avenue of setting right his wrongs. But, he sensed that there was very little else that could satisfy her. And, perhaps…he thought of the way he had acted on Corellia. He had been reckless to the point that Lord Vawrawn, who didn’t know him, had mistaken it for bravery. But, Quinn had simply been desperate. He’d been floundering hopelessly for a way to fix what he had done. He had stewed in his own guilt for over a month, most of it in her absence. He had lain awake night after night, wishing that there was something he could do to make it up to her. He had despaired of ever having that chance - realistically, there wasn’t anything he could do to make things right. Still, he had clung to some nascent hope that if he could _just_ submit to her, if he could _just_ prove to her that he would do _anything_ to atone… Perhaps, after all, he needed this punishment just as much as she did.

Still, it was unusual… She seemed to pick up on that last thought, as she explained herself to him one last time.

“This is not quite a random whim, Captain. Piercings and tattoos have a variety of meanings in Sith culture. They are meant to enhance beauty and sexual pleasure, as well as to display wealth. It is also customary for newlyweds to add piercings or markings as their partner might please. Sometimes, such things are required of a favored slave or servant, as markings of possession. You belong to me, my husband. And I would have you marked so that you _never forget that again_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the negotiation. Quinn and Karn'za (as I call her) are hardly the healthiest relationship model out there. But, even then...negotiate, negotiate, negotiate. Verbally. Frequently. Honestly.
> 
> Even if you're not into the kinky stuff, it's still a good rule for sex. Hell, relationships in general.
> 
> And if you don't get any other subliminal messages from this story, at least get this...Quinn consents to every damn bit of it. TAKE NOTES, DEAR READERS!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn's submission begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we get into some of the good stuff starting...
> 
> Now...

Baras was dead.

The freedom that flowed from such knowledge nearly made Karn’za giddy. If she hadn’t delivered the killing blow herself, she probably wouldn’t have believed it. The bastard was dead.

And not only that, but she had been given access to the fat old spider’s records, as just reward for her victory. While 90% of it didn’t matter to her, she called in a favor with a cyborg Inquisitor she had long called “friend”, to help Vette slice into the files. Having been a former slave himself, he and Vette hit it off as Karn’za had hoped. The two went to work and she waited patiently on Korriban the extra days it took for them to crack Baras’ encryption codes.

Being there for a few days longer than planned also allowed her to have some important conversations with Quinn over their own encrypted devices. There was more to his punishment for them to discuss. To her unending surprise, Quinn agreed to all of it. Every last, submissive bit of it.

Kom’rk - her Inquisitor friend from their Academy days - and Vette ended up taking a little longer than even they had anticipated. Baras was, after all, a master of deception and secrets. Karn’za found herself growing impatient, eager to get back to Dromond Kaas, to her husband. It was the first time she’d wanted Quinn, since the transponder station.

Once Kom’rk and Vette broke through Baras’ firewalls and passcodes, those last extra days of waiting paid off. There was a lot to go through - more that the former-slave duo hadn’t been able to touch - but Karn’za finally had access to the one file that she had hoped to find among her former master’s records. Baras, it turned out, had kept meticulous records on his dealings with one Captain Malavai Quinn.

It was yet a few days more, while Karn’za worked her way through that file. It wasn’t that there was so much to go through, as it was that there were a lot of emotions to process. The entire history of her husband’s betrayal was laid bare before her eyes. To balance that, though, were Baras’ notes, which detailed his growing suspicion of Malavai’s true intentions. In the end, the final truth was uncovered:

Baras had used the Force to manipulate Quinn, whenever he felt the good captain was getting a conscience. After the point where her relationship with Quinn became physical, Baras became more suspicious of her husband’s true loyalties. Their relationship had not been part of the Sith spy master’s machinations (as Karn’za had privately feared). In fact, Quinn had kept them a secret until the very end, when his wedding ring betrayed him. Baras spotted it in one of the final conversation between them before the transponder station and she then got to watch, on holorecording, how her former master gave Quinn two unfathomable choices: kill her himself - efficiently, without undue suffering - or watch as Baras had her tortured, raped, and murdered. When her dear, stupid, morally-conflicted husband tried to defy him, Baras had used the Force to take over Quinn’s motor control. With his own gun pushed against the bottom of his chin, with his own finger poised on the trigger, Quinn had been told that he could die, but that wouldn’t save her from a slow, agonizing death.

Once the worst of her anger over Quinn’s betrayal had cleared long enough to allow rational thought, Karn’za had suspected that something like this had happened. But, being able to have that hope proven…being able to watch the fear and horror on her husband’s holographic face…brought her a peace of mind she couldn’t have had otherwise. Of course, she made a point of telling Quinn in a holocall later that night that he should have died for her - “I’ve always been able to take care of myself where Baras was concerned. It’s the rest of you fools I’ve had to worry about.” And, she told him that he still had no excuse for letting Baras continue to manipulate him after Quinn had realized he’d eventually have to choose between them - “You should have come to me. We could have figured out to beat him together. At the very least, we could have faked the whole transponder station nonsense.”

What she didn’t tell him was that all that had truly mattered to her in the weeks after “the Quinncident”, was understanding why he had betrayed her. Now she did. It all made sense. She now knew how it had all come down to that horrifying moment when he turned around and tonelessly told her that he had orchestrated the means of her demise. She was still angry and she was still hurt. But, now she had knowledge and that helped her feel like she had regained the power she had lost that day.

* * *

 

Quinn was exactly as she told him to be; when Karn’ze stepped through the lift door, into the entry room of her apartment, Quinn was waiting for her on one bended knee. He started to lift his head when he heard the door slide open, but his eyes only got as far as the Wrath’s waist before he remembered himself and turned his gaze back down to the top of his shined boot.

Karn’za took a moment to appreciate the view. Her husband was naked from the waist up and she made a soft noise of approval at the stark black lines that did indeed look exquisite against his pale skin. The tattoo streaked down the curve of his back like Dromund Kaas’ famous lightening and stopped just short of his waist. She loved lightening and loved the patterns it made in the sky; she had always loved the danger inherent in its beauty, as well as the power that could either destroy or create, depending on whether it was left in its natural state, or harnessed by mortal hands. It was an appropriate symbol of the Sith - mostly of the Inquisitors, who used Sith sorcery more frequently than their blades - and the simulation of it on her husband’s skin was inspiring.

“Stand,” the Wrath commanded softly; the apartment was so silent, however, that she might as well have shouted, for as loud as her voice sounded against the walls.

Quinn obeyed and pushed himself to his feet in a pleasing ripple of muscle and skin. He stood a little taller than Karn’za - just enough to force her to lift her chin up in order to see into his blue eyes. Those eyes were stilled trained meekly on the tops of his boots and satisfied with the continued display of submission, Karn’za took her time examining the rest of her husband’s new markings.

His shoulders were almost entirely blackened by ink, as way to delineate a change in the style that flowed down toward his elbows. These tattoos were a complex pattern of Pureblood Sith-scrit and symbolic geometric designs. These same symbols and ‘scrit flowed across Quinn’s left pectoral, edged in curves and whorls of thicker black lines that almost completely outlined the firm plane of muscle. On his right pectoral flowed more of the lightening, which arced across that half of his chest in stark contrast to the deliberate patterns on his left. The lightening also framed his right side, stopping at the waist of his pants and accentuating the ridges of his stomach and hip without covering them.

“Mm,” Karn’za practically purred in the back of her throat as she reached out her hand and lightly dragged her fingernails across Quinn’s newly inked chest.

He shivered under her touch and she felt a rush of power at his reaction. Her fingers drifted lightly over his left nipple, which was now threaded through with a simple barbell. The piercing forced the nipple to pucker and it gave Karn’za a private thrill to imagine such delicious “deviance” hidden by her husband’s crisp uniform. Both nipples were pierced, matter of fact, and that made the prospect of eying Quinn in one of his plain white undershirts so much more exciting.

“These are unexpected,” her tone, however, belied none of her approval, as she pinched his right nipple.

“I hope they don’t displease you, m’lord,” Quinn couldn’t quite hide a gasp as she took her time fiddling with each of his new piercings.

“Not at all,” Karn’za was too pleased with the surprise to continue pretending otherwise. “Although it is a little uncomfortable to think that my little brother knows me so well.”

Quinn made a strangled sort of sound in the back of his throat and Karn’za laughed with delight. She hadn’t told him anything at all about her “contact in Kaas City” - it had been more fun that way.

“Yes, my brother,” she repeated with just the slightest hint of glee. “He is the youngest of four. Unlike me and our older brothers, Kroy was never suited to the military or to the Force. He has always been more given to life as a lord of crime, instead of the Sith. He’s always been so artistic. I shall have to tell him that he’s simply outdone himself this time around.”

She let her hand fall to her side - although, she would have much rather continued playing with Quinn’s nipples. They had never been particularly sensitive before, but now she could tell that her good captain had a weakness that could be exploited to her advantage in private. His yearning for her, which she had felt through the Force as soon as she laid eyes on him, had quickly turned to lust the moment she started appreciating his piercings.

She had meant to keep him naked for most of the next week,or at the very least, bare-chested. But now she thought she might have to have him wear one of those boring regulation undershirts at least a couple of times, so that she could see how he reacted to having that slightly rough cloth rub against his nipples while she tugged and teased them.The thought made her want to push him against the wall and ravish him. She almost did, too, but stopped herself just short of grabbing him by the throat and manhandling him. She had put too much planning into the next twenty-four hours, to upend it with an impromptu fuck in the apartment entry room. That could wait for another time.

“Take the bag to my bedroom,” she abruptly stepped away from him and motioned curtly toward one of his old duffel bags that she’d appropriated shortly after taking him to her bed for the first time. “Bring me a glass of water after that. I’ll be in the living room.”

She had to force herself not to touch him, or look to back at him, as she straightened her shoulders and regally sailed from the room. Without skipping a beat, she took a right in the hallway and opened the sliding doors into the watery light of the rather sizable living room. Once the doors closed automatically behind her, Karn’za took a deep, shuddering breath. Stars above, but she had never thought Quinn could be more attractive than he already was. Kroy had proven her wrong and then some. Now she understood why he’d seemed so smug on their earlier holocall.

“Insufferable ass,” she muttered to herself without any real heat to her words; in fact, the corners of her mouth titled upward as she thought of her younger brother.

As the youngest, he had always been the joker, the trickster. Kroy hadn’t let go of that role in all the years since their youth - at least, as far as Karn’za was concerned. Of all her brothers, Kroy had always known how to make her day a little brighter.

Thoughts of her brother understandably cooled some of her ardor and now was not the time for that. Pushing Kroy firmly out of mind, Karn’za took a few quick strides over to the curved couch that surrounded an artfully arranged center-table in front of the wall-to-ceiling windows that dominated the far side of the room. With brisk efficiency, she whisked the red cloth runner and the ceramic pot of flowers off of the table and walked across the breadth of the room to place them on the grand, wooden desk that she had inherited from her father.

Then, she started taking off her clothes. First were her boots and then the tight black leggings that she wore beneath a new tunic that Vette had insisted on giving to her as a present on Karn’za’s last life day. The tunic’s style was apparently all the rage on Nar Shaddaa these days - it fell almost to her knees and wrapped around to tie at the side of her waist. Secured further by a matching cloth belt, the tunic accentuated the curve of her silhouette; she had worn it once since then around Malavai and if her recollection was correct, it had stayed on for a grand total of about five minutes.

Not that she was wearing anything for the captain’s benefit - not tonight, at least. His appreciation for the way the sapphire-blue tunic had accentuated the rich crimson hue of her skin, or the athletic curve of her waist and hips, was purely coincidental. Karn’za knew how she looked in it and had worn it for how it made her feel…and for how nicely it draped across her body when opened.

The Wrath stripped out of her underclothes at a pace that was neither leisurely nor rushed, and then slipped her arms back into the tunic. She then made her way back to the couch and was trying to decide how to arrange the small, decorative pillows so that she could sit close to the couch’s edge and still have support when she leaned back, when the door slid open. It was Quinn, with glass in hand and a wary look on his face.

“Set it there,” Karn’za pointed to a little side table that stood between the opposite end of the couch and the window.

Quinn obeyed without comment, but once he had done so, he lingered uncertainly by the table. It was clear that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself when there wasn’t a command to carry out. His wife didn’t make it any easier for him; she remained silent as she drifted back toward the desk, then around it, to open a drawer. She peaked over at Quinn through her lashes; now that he thought she wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were riveted on the swell of her breasts that were so prettily framed by the open tunic. Karn’za had to hide a bit of a smirk as she turned her attention back toward the drawer.

“Very good, Captain,” she murmured, as if to herself, as she reached in and pulled out a heavy coil of deep red rope.

There was a medium sized box as well, which she set on top of the desk and peeked inside. The basics of Quinn’s punishment - the rest of which was to be meted out now - had been negotiated and agreed upon, but she had left it to him to choose the tools of his submission. As usual, his choices quite surprised her. For a change, they also pleased her.

She sauntered back toward him with rope and box in hand, and stopped just out of his reach on the side of the center-table opposite him. Quinn had his eyes turned down again, but there was a tell-tale stiffness in his shoulders that hinted at his inner turmoil. None of this was easy for him - but then again, that was the point. Karn’za set the box down on the table, but kept the rope in hand as she took her time enjoying the sight of Quinn’s half-dressed body. He had his uniform pants on and his calf-high, Imperial issue boots; the polished buckle of his belt glinted in a flash of lightening that reflected off the windows to the left and right of them. He had cut his hair, too, as she had requested. Now, in place of his thick hair - of which he was and always had been, quite vain - there was a short pelt of black hair about a hand’s width wide, surrounded by closely-shaved skin. Even as short as it was, Karn’za could tell that it was still damp from a shower; she breathed deeply, experimentally, and noted the crisp scent of his soap.

So far, he had done exactly as she had told him. Karn’za supposed that shouldn’t have surprised her. With the glaring exception of his betrayal, Quinn had always been by-the-book. Though, he did have a darker sense of justice than Karn’za, so there had been plenty of occasions for argument in private. But, for the most part, he had never failed one of her commands. Which was yet another reason why his betrayal hurt the way it did.

Killing Baras had done a lot to ease Karn’za’s anger over the matter, but the thought of what her husband had done still stung. It was hard to trust him, or his motives, since then. He had done much on Corellia to atone, and he had done much since - as his body now showed. Karn’za was hoping that the challenges of the night ahead of them would help them toward a more equitable relationship. What she had in mind was not so different from the games they had played before, except that now the roles were reversed. Tonight, Quinn would be reminded of his place and if he hoped to ever again be given free reign to do as he pleased in the bedroom, then he would earn it back through his submission. All of this had been made clear to him, yet Karn’za still wondered if Quinn would truly accept her desires when it came down to it.

There was, unfortunately, only one way to find out. She breathed in slowly and then stepped around the center-table, to stand in front of him. She thought about using the Force to lift his face toward hers, but the other side of the betrayal was that Quinn’s will had, in the end, been manipulated by the Force. When Quinn balked, Baras had taken away her husband’s bodily autonomy in a show of dominance and power that had left very few options other than obedience to choose from.

So, instead of using the Force, Karn’za commanded.

“Look at me, Captain.”

The startling blue of his eyes was one of the first things that she had noticed about him - besides his ruthless refusal to accept incompetence. She liked to think that her example and influence had tempered that streak of cruelty in him. The blue eyes that met hers were certainly more humble and much softer around the edges than when she’d first seen them. The gradual displays of kindness toward Vette and his acceptance, however reluctantly, of Pierce’s abrasive disregard for military courtesy, had proven to her, over time, that even Malavai Quinn could learn to bend.

“Show me the rest,” she motioned toward his belt buckle.

The skin high on his cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but Quinn complied with his usual military precision. Karn’za didn’t even try to hide her delight, as he unfastened his buckle and pulled open the front edges of his pants. As she had ordered, he wore nothing underneath and his cock - already hard - fell immediately on display. He began to move his hand to grasp his cock and pull it fully out into her view, but Karn’za stopped him.

“Stay, just like that,” she nodded toward his hands, which were still grasped around the opposite edges of his pants; she liked the way his fists framed his cock. “Keep your hands just as they are.”

Now came the part that had embarrassed him thoroughly during their discussions of the scene. Karn’za picked up a small holorecorder that had been on the center-table next to the pot of flowers and stepped back until she could frame Quinn completely in her sights. The flush that had been high on his cheeks now deepened and spread to his ears and down toward his throat; Karn’za, determined to balance mercy with her justice, paused before raising the ‘recorder to the level of her eyes.

“You don’t want your picture taken, Quinn?” her tone was teasing, but it was an opening for him if he wished to take it.

“It pleases you, m’lord,” as it always did during sex, Quinn’s voice had dropped an octave - that never failed to make Karn’za wet. “It is not my place to deny you.”

“No, it isn’t,” she accepted his answer and took a quick shot of him as he stood there, vulnerable and sexy in equal measure.

Having claimed what she wanted, she lowered the ‘recorder and pushed a different button, so that a small hologram of Quinn appeared - head lowered, cock erect. Karn’za paused only to set the holorecording down on the center-table, before she stepped within reach of Quinn’s body. She cupped his chin and made him look at her again; when he did so, she smiled that fierce, toothy smile he had often noted graced her face before entering battle.

“That extends beyond mere actions, Captain,” her tone turned dangerous and she watched the flash of shame and fear that flickered through his blue eyes. “There is no room in our relationship for you to deny me anything,” she knew that he knew that she was talking about his loyalty and the shame in his face deepened.

Before that thought could weigh them down, Karn’za dropped her hand and her gaze. She slid an open palm against the underside of Quinn’s cock and made a little noise of delight. Six barbells framed the ridge that ran along the underside of his cock and the smooth friction of them against her palm made her weak-kneed with anticipation. In her younger years, Karn’za had had a few dalliances with male Purebloods and she had always enjoyed the look and feel of their piercings - some of which were not dissimilar to the one her husband now had. And at the very tip of his cock, piercing through the head which was presently swollen and eager, was an unadorned durasteel ring. Karn’za had to repress the very un-Sith-like urge to swoon. She also thanked her brother for accelerating Quinn’s healing process while he worked on the tattoos. That she had told Quinn about beforehand - there wouldn’t have been enough time between her trip to and from Korriban, and Quinn’s piercings, for him to heal completely. While Kroy wasn’t Force Sensitive, he tended to attract a lot of employees who were, who had found their way into society’s seedier fringes in their attempts to avoid training (and possible death) on Ziost and Korriban. While Kroy tattooed Quinn’s upper body, he’d had one of his employees who was particularly adept in the Force (Kroy didn’t ask questions, but he suspected the woman had trained on Ziost for a time), hurry along the captain’s natural healing process.

It had all worked out according to Karn’za’s plan and she was pleased. She closed her hand loosely around her husband’s cock and rubbed him gently for a stroke or two. Quinn broke his silence with a sound that Karn’za could only classify as a mewl. At that, she dropped his cock and stepped back from him as she schooled her face into a faintly disapproving mask. For a second, Quinn lifted his head to watch her, but after registering the look on her face, he looked hastily down. Now, Karn’za thought, was a good opportunity to move into the second phase of Malavai’s “punishment”.

She circled him as if she had her lightsaber in hand and was preparing to strike. After admiring his body for another moment or two, she slowly unraveled the rope in her hands and ordered him curtly to parade rest. His pants slid a little lower on his hips and she debated for a moment or two whether or not she wanted him to strip fully for their play. She had pounced on him once, in this very apartment, when he was in his dress uniform, no less. She’d caught him returning from the Citadel after his board examination for promotion and he’d cut such a fine figure…

Malavai had tried, desperately, to get them to the bedroom - at the very least, he had tried to get undressed before they started. But, Karn’za had been insistent; it didn’t help matters that once he’d given in to his passions, Quinn had never been able to rally the same level of self-control he’d had before they first kissed. She’d ended up pressed against the living room window, as he pulled her hair and pounded into her from behind, his uniform jacket abandoned on the couch, in his white undershirt and dress pants. Karn’za had been quite pleased by the stains she’d left on the edges of his pants’ opening, obvious evidence of her desire and their passion. Quinn had been far less pleased with those stains afterward, but Karn’za had always suspected he had merely been playing the role he was comfortable with and, in reality, had found the evidence of her arousal as pleasing as she did. This suspicion was bolstered by the fact that he put his uniform jacket back on and wore those same pants to a dinner party they had been invited to later that night; if her “stains” had bothered him as much as he pretended, he’d have changed his entire uniform. Incidentally, he had continued to wear those pants well into the wee hours of the morning, while they indulged in yet another round of sex after the party.

In short, Karn’za liked the idea of leaving evidence of herself behind. So, the pants - and boots - would stay on for their scene.

Her hands flew as she reminisced and in very short order, she had Quinn tied up to her satisfaction. Again, she circled him completely to admire her handiwork. His hands were bound behind his back and supported by the rope that she had looped around his neck; both ends were tied securely at his wrists. There had been a second length of rope in the bundle and this she had wrapped several times around the top of his chest and bicep; it was this band of rope that held the the weight of his hands, as she had looped the rope around his neck through the ropes around his chest. Finally, for nothing more than aesthetic purposes, she had framed the bottom of his chest and biceps with a third length of rope. It was a style Quinn had used on her more than once; unlike Quinn, however, Karn’za did not accompany her work with murmured words of promise, or subtle, seductive touches. She simply “trussed him up”, so to speak, and left him to wonder if she had any intention at all of bringing him pleasure at some point in the night.

She did, but he didn’t need to know that. Let him worry a bit, she thought to herself, as she finished her perusal and stopped to face him. The scarlet rope looked particularly fetching against his black tattoos and pale skin, and Karn’za was beginning to feel that if she didn’t start hurrying things up a bit, she might explode from anticipation. She had always loved Quinn’s cock and she wanted it inside of her, and wanted him begging beneath her, sooner rather than later.

But, first, the test. Tying Quinn up wasn’t exactly pushing limits in their relationship - although, admittedly, it was almost always her being tied and left wanting. No, the first true test came now.

“Face the table,” she pointed toward the center-table, which would hit Quinn about waist-high if he was kneeling. “On your knees.”

The next part required a steadying hand, but again, Karn’za reigned back the desire to run her hands over his body. It wasn’t time for that yet.

“Now bend over,” she ordered, once he was settled; she noted the sudden hitch in his breathing and the abrupt spike of apprehension.

He knew what was coming next, but he did as he was told without resistance. Once he was settled, his face turned so that he could watch her, Karn’za opened the box she had set down earlier. Inside were clear synthskin gloves, a bottle of lubrication, and a little black plug. There were a few other things, but she ignored those for now, as she put one of the gloves on her right hand. A generous dollop of the lube later, and she had positioned herself behind him, between his legs. For a few moments, the Wrath soothed her captain with gentle strokes down his lower back and cheeks, with her bare left hand.

“Calm yourself, Captain,” she urged softly, even though she knew that the plug, which she had set down on the table in Quinn’s clear line of sight, wasn’t helping him any.

Again, that was rather the point. He had to submit to her and he had to do it with the full knowledge of what she required of him. He wasn’t going to embrace his submission wholeheartedly at first and Karn’za knew that; even so, he surprised her by relaxing somewhat beneath her gentle fondling. She had thought she’d have to pet him for a few minutes more, before he finally let his muscles loosen. Once his shoulders flexed, she moved her right hand and began to circle his opening with her forefinger. He tensed up again, and she soothed him some more. Then she pushed the very tip of her finger into him and he groaned in apprehension. Again, she took her time touching him - even going so far as to reach around and tug lightly on the ring that now adorned the head of his cock. Then she started stroking him and as she did so, slid her forefinger further and further into him. Quinn began to pant, but did his best not to fight her. Variations of this theme went on until she could work three fingers into him and he was starting to move beneath her - not from fear or pain, but from an awakening pleasure that the Force told her he found confusing.

Only until she was sure that he had found a sort of acceptance with her fingers, did she let go of his cock and pick up the plug. He watched, his eyes growing wider, as she moved it closer toward his lips. Just before the tip touched him, he pulled his head back and then grunted in surprise as that pushed him further onto her fingers.

“Suck it,” she commanded simply.

Now the struggle began. He started to shake his head and then thought better of it. He turned his face away from the plug, so he could catch her out of the corner of his eye, and his expression was pleading.

“M-m’lord…?” he tested the boundaries of his command to be silent and considering what she was asking of him, Karn’za allowed it.

“You heard me correctly, Captain,” her voice didn’t hint at all to the desire and apprehension she felt herself.

She held her breath for several long seconds as Quinn clearly grappled with her order. Finally, he obeyed, and now it was Karn’za’s eyes to flare wide - in passion, rather than surprise - as he turned his face back toward the plug and obediently opened his mouth. She moved it closer toward him and it was her turn to suck in a sharp breath of desire, as his lips closed around the thick, bulbous width.

“Oh, Captain,” she almost called him by name, but caught herself just in time - anything other than his rank would break the scene, she felt. “Good,” she continued with a throaty purr as she slowly pushed the plug in and out between his lips and rolled it around on his tongue. “Get it good and wet.”

Quinn closed his eyes as he took the whole plug into his mouth; she watched, fascinated, as his cheeks hollowed in and then puffed out, as he worked saliva over the toy. They stayed like that for several moments, before Karn’za dragged the plug between his lips for the last time. The colored, durasteel plug glistened in the rain-tinted light as she moved to replace her fingers with it. It was a slow, intentional process, but Quinn’s deep groan sent a thrill through his wife’s core as the plug slid fully into place.

She let him lay, his chest and face on the table, as she removed the glove and disposed of it. Returning to his side, she put the bottle of lube back into the box and closed the lid. Then she stepped around him and began making herself comfortable on the couch directly behind him. Once she was positioned like she wanted - tunic hanging fully open, her legs spread, and one foot propped against the edge of the center-table, next to Quinn’s shoulder - she delivered her next instructions.

“Turn around.”

The Force told her far more than she would have known from simply watching him. There was a part of him that wanted to rebel against the plug inside of him, that wanted to rebel against the ropes that bound him, and that wanted to reassert himself as the sexual dominant. Another part of him was turned on by what she had done to him so far; yet another was rather appalled at how quickly that part of him that enjoyed the scene was taking over. Karn’za had to keep herself from laughing softly - his usual surety and grace presently eluded him, as he struggled to turn around on his knees. The way he hunched his shoulders and panted softly also communicated, quite clearly, that he wasn’t yet sure what to make of the way the plug moved inside of him. A very Sith part of Karn’za positively delighted in his discomfort.

As she watched him, she let her hand drift down her stomach, until her fingers slipped beneath her folds and began to circle lazily around her clit. Once he was turned around and situated enough to notice, Quinn froze, his eyes riveted to the sight of his wife pleasuring herself, not inches away from his face. Now, Karn’za laughed, though it sounded a bit breathy even to her ears; she arched her back for show and worried her lip between her teeth as she increased the speed and pressure of her fingers.

Desire flooded her sense of Quinn through the Force. She flirted with the thought of telling Quinn to eat her out, but then decided no. It was more fun to make him watch, especially with the knowledge that her husband could spend hours with his face between her thighs and be perfectly content while doing so. Here was something he wanted - that, through the Force, she knew he desperately wanted - and Karn’za let her head fall back with a moan as she let off her clit for a few moments and dipped her fingers down, and then into her. There was a low groan from Quinn and she lifted her head just long enough to glance down and take note of how his muscles suddenly stood in stark relief against his bindings. His whole body quivered and naturally leaned toward her.

“Sit back on your heels,” Karn’za had to exercise considerable control to keep her voice steady, as she pushed two of her fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.

Quinn shook his head, his eyes glazed over, but after a second or two, he obeyed. As he settled back, he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned more loudly than he had as of yet; the position pushed the plug more firmly into him and the sensations had taken by him surprise. Karn’za lifted herself up on her elbows - her fingers now sliding back up to her clit -and glanced quickly down at her captain’s cock. It was swollen hard as ever; in spite of his discomfort, surprise, and disappointment over not being told to taste her, he was still turned on by everything that was happening.

“You must earn your right to pleasure me like this,” again, she amazed herself at how steady she was able to keep her voice, as she worked her fingers even faster over her clit. “Do you understand why, Captain?”

“Yes, m’lord,” Quinn’s sex-roughened voice made her nipples harden and she could feel the tension build up in her lower belly.

“Why, Captain?” she demanded; this time, her voice hitched over his rank, as her hips began to move with her efforts.

“I failed you,” was his simple reply; he briefly met her eyes before adding, “Because I betrayed you.”

“Because you were given to two masters and chose the wrong one,” Karn’za’s voice turned hard, although she didn’t stop the measured, circling motion of her fingers. “I gave you power over me, Captain.”

Their eyes met fully this time and his shame threatened to dampen the rising power of her arousal. Karn’za reminded herself that there was an important lesson here for Malavai to learn - a lesson that did not need to deny her release, to be effective. She continued, her voice wavering only slightly as she arched her back.

“You will earn your place back as my equal,” she promised him - and Force so help her, she believed he could, or else they wouldn’t be here, now, in the roles they were playing. “But, first you need to learn that I am not a pretty little whore for your desires,” her voice deepened to a growl as her arousal built with every word she uttered and every pass her fingers made over her clit. “And you need to be taught that my hand is the only one that should ever command you.”

Having finally delivered that proclamation, Karn’za gave in to the sensations she was rapidly stoking to life within her. She groaned and closed her eyes, and let her head fall back against the couch. She bit her lip as she began, in earnest, to bring herself to the peak. After several breathless moments of silence, she could feel the orgasm begin to break. But, it was Malavai’s deep voice, and the utter submission behind his words that she could feel through the Force, that took her over the edge.

“Yes, m’lord.”

That was all he had to say, for her to know that he understood her disappointment in him and that he accepted the path to atonement that she had chosen for him. Her body arched sharply and she shouted in pleasure, in triumph, as her orgasm ripped through her. It was a sharp explosion of pleasure and faded quickly; it left Karn’za in a warm haze of endorphins in spite of its brevity. She knew, too, from years of experience with the moods of her body, that such a quick release simply set the stage for a longer buildup to a harder orgasm, later.

She sprawled across the couch for a few moments as she caught her breath. Intermingled with her loud exhalations and inhalations, was the sound of Quinn’s breath, as heavy as hers. Once she felt she could move without shaking, Karn’za began to sit up; she paused, half-way up, to slide her fore-and-ring finger into her cunt and to coat them liberally in her cum. Then, she was sitting up fully and smearing her fingers across Quinn’s parted lips. She smiled sharply at the confusion and surprise that warred through his eyes as he opened his mouth for her, just to be denied. He wanted so bad to lick the taste of her off of her fingers and to suckle them until they were clean. Instead, she wiped her fingers across his mouth, then his chin, and finally his cheek, until they were mostly dry.

He had done the same with his cum on more than one occasion. It was a fitting reversal, Karn’za thought, as she got to her feet and towered over him. This placed her cunt directly level with his mouth and she could tell that it cost Quinn quite a bit of self control to not lean just a few inches forward and bury his face in her. She rewarded his restraint by running her fingers gently through his butchered hair and over the smooth, shaved skin of his head, until she could feel some of the edge recede from his arousal.

She then helped him stand up, only to push him - literally - back down onto the couch. Without a guiding hand, Quinn fell rather ungracefully and ended up in something of a lop-sided sprawl. At the moment, however, all Karn’za cared about was that his legs were spread and that he was effectively helpless against her. She watched with considerable appreciation, as the muscles in her husband’s stomach flexed and rippled with the effort of pulling himself upright from a sideways slouch against the bunched up pillows. His daily routine of body weight exercises clearly earned results.

He had only just settled himself, however, before Karn’za threw a leg over his lap and sank down to straddle him. His cock bobbed eagerly and brushed against the smooth, wet curve of her cunt, which gave her the next idea. With one hand splayed across the center of his chest, Karn’za reached between them and grabbed the base of his cock. Quinn’s whole body jumped at the contact and he whined, low in his throat, as she guided him toward her. That whine turned into a groan, as she held him steady and slowly rubbed her cunt up and down his cock. Her clit, however, was too sensitive for her to carry on in that fashion for long; just as she felt Quinn growing somewhat accustomed with her teasing, she pushed herself up on her knees, moved the tip of his cock firmly against her entrance, and sank down on him until he was hilted to the root. All of this was done before he could quite figure out what was going on and she was rewarded with a startled, unguarded gasp of pleasure.

“Kriff,” she sighed, as her body settled around the feel of him - thick and long - inside of her. “You have a perfect cock, Captain.”

At her praise, he flexed his hips, pushing himself deeper into her. Karn’za expected the lapse of protocol - any man lost sense once he was inside a woman. So, she wrapped her right hand firmly around Quinn’s throat and applied just the slightest bit of pressure - enough to grab his attention, but not enough to actually restrict his breathing. It had the desired effect; his whole body went completely still beneath her and his eyes searched her face uncertainly for anger.

“At present, you are nothing more than a cock,” her voice was hard and he winced as if she had just slapped him. “My cock. If I wish you to move, I will tell you, Captain. Otherwise, you will remain still. Am I clear?”

“Yes, m’lord,” his body quivered beneath her thighs, but he obeyed.

Through it all, so far, he had obeyed. It gave Karn’za hope.

She sat, then, impaled on his cock, but not moving save for her hands, which roamed greedily over his bound and tattooed chest. She pinched and tugged at his pierced nipples, which caused him to moan and move again. In response to his disobedience - which, Karn’za had intended - she twisted his left nipple hard and pinched it firmly between her strong fingers as she reminded him of the rules. She could feel his will to obey warring with his unraveling self control and she took some measure of pity on him after that. For a good five minutes, the Wrath satisfied herself by running her hands over every inch of Quinn’s muscular arms and chest; her fingers traced the patterns her brother had left behind on her husband’s skin and played with the hair that darkened his chest and formed a line straight to his cock. Karn’za let the intensity of the scene lull for a little bit, as she appreciated her captain’s body and reveled in the fact that he was tied, half-dressed, and completely hers to do with as she wished.

Her cunt throbbed around the thick girth of him inside of her and it didn’t take Karn’za very long to decide on what she wanted next. She helped Quinn scoot back further onto the couch, so that his back was properly supported against the cushions, all the while keeping him firmly inside of her. If the captain’s hips rose and fell against hers while she maneuvered him into a better position, Karn’za let it pass. He felt so kriffing good and she was growing desperate for friction, as it was. His piercings rubbed against her walls and their movements pushed and pulled the plug inside of him; by the time Quinn was settled to her satisfaction, Karn’za was ready to fuck her husband harder than they had ever done before, and he was willing to let her.

She grabbed a hold of his shoulders and bounced up and down in his lap a few times. This had never been one of her favorite positions - her least favorite, in fact - so she quickly decided to try something else. She didn’t look at him, but she could feel Quinn watching her with a hungry sort of desperation, as she slid off of him. As she swung her leg over his and turned her back to him, she could feel him biting back a protest and she allowed herself a fierce, triumphant smile. He was doing so very, very well. His obedient silence was rewarded when she grabbed the base of his cock for a second time and lowered herself slowly. Their groans mingled as their bodies joined together again.

In this new position, Karn’za was straddling Quinn backwards, with her hands braced in front of her on the center-table. It was a sturdy piece of furniture and perfect for what she had in mind. After an experimental wiggle of her hips to make sure that Quinn was fully seated inside of her, she began to tentatively pull her torso forward over his knees and then push it back against his lap. After a few experimental thrusts, Karn’za decided she liked the position and the power it gave her. She soon set a punishing pace, pushing and pulling herself forcefully against his body. It didn’t take Quinn long to start gasping softly with each new thrust; the thought that he was completely unable to take over, and that she was well and truly fucking him, made Karn’za’s head swim with power.

“What was that, Captain?” she hissed over her shoulder after he made a series of noises that sounded suspiciously like he was trying to silence himself - and failing.

He was so damn reserved at times. And, unless he was whispering hoarse promises of debauchery into her ear, he was always so damn quiet during sex. One of her rules for the current scene, however, was that he speak only when spoken to; she was now rather regretting that decision. Malavai had continuously amazed her throughout their sex life with his wide vocabulary of creative and utter filth, as well as his seeming nonchalance about using said vocabulary to his advantage. To be fair, he’d been mostly quiet early on, when they were both growing accustomed to one another in the bedroom. But, once she had given him permission to play the dominant role, he was rarely without words during sex. Part of the discipline in the present scene was her control over his voice - he spoke only when she wanted him to and then, his words had better be ones of due respect for her status.

But as she increased the tempo of her thrusts, so did the frequency of those garbled sounds. She wasn’t quite sure if it was words he was trying to hold back, or sounds of pleasure. Either way, she was ready to listen to him unravel.

“I asked you a question,” she punctuated every word with a firm push back against his cock, after he failed to answer.

“P-please, m’lord,” his reply was practically a whimper; Karn’za wished they faced a mirror, just so she could watch his defenses crumble. “I…you…please…”

Apparently, he was incapable - for once - of stringing together a coherent sentence. Karn’za graciously decided to help him out.

“Do you like being used for your cock?” she gasped out the words, but if she sounded as if she was beginning to ravel apart, Quinn didn’t seem to mind.

“Y-yes,” he grunted deeply as she slammed her hips back and pushed him deeper inside of her.

“’Yes’ what?” she panted.

“M-m’lord,” he amended meekly, his voice growing more hoarse by the moment.

She paused on a downward stroke and glanced over her shoulder at him. He was watching her with heavy-lidded eyes and veins had popped out in his upper arm from how hard he had fought against his restraints. His chest was now slick with sweat and he had all the look of a man who was trying desperately not to fall over the edge. Smirking, she sat back and wiggled her hips against his lap, just to hear him moan.

“Would you like to cum, Captain?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes, p-please, m’lord,” Quinn no longer seemed to care about his dignity; he let his head fall back against the couch and his throat worked hard to suppress what sounded for all the world like a needy little whine.

“When I command it, you may,” she promised, her voice a deadly mixture of danger and saccharine.

His moan of disappoint was long, deep, and hit her right in her core. Karn’za shuddered with delight - like this, obedient, desperate, and wanting, her husband was perfect. She pushed herself up on his lap and held herself steady with a firm grip on his knee, as she quickly sucked her right forefinger and ring finger. Without preamble, she sat up and leaned back until her shoulders touched his chest. Quinn could look down the whole length of her and watch as she began to pleasure herself again. She got about two strokes into it when he began to finally curse and plead.

“M’lord, please,” he begged desperately, as he helplessly watched her writhe against his lap. “Please stop, please. Fek!” he howled, as she let her fingers drag down across her cunt and over what of his cock she could reach. “Please let me…please…”

His hips thrust sharply up and it was her turn to gasp as his cock -at least half of it still inside of her - tapped squarely on that spot inside of her that made her want to beg him. She gathered her control quickly, however, and turned her nails on his cock, between the exposed piercings, as her hand traveled back up to her clit.

“Be still, Captain,” she demanded sharply.

The pain of her nails, however, did little to discourage Quinn. If anything, the fleeting pain made him roll his hips upward even faster. Much more of this and he would cum before she was ready. She had wanted to cum with him inside of her, but given that this was the first scene he’d ever played in a submissive role, perhaps she had expected a little too much, too soon. Karn’za also - belatedly - recalled the cock ring she’d spotted in the box, now sitting just beyond her reach. She should have put that on him before anything had ever started, as that would have helped them both immeasurably. Then again, perhaps it was best that she hadn’t; he was already struggling to cope with all the new sensations and experiences that she had worked so far into their scene.

And there was still, at least, one more to go.

She leaned forward until her hands were on the center-table again. With another brisk command for him to sit still, she began to fuck him again. She was slower this time around and, if anything, that just made him struggle more. He didn’t move again, but she could feel the amount of sheer will he had to exercise in order to keep his hips from snapping up against hers again. He was beginning to shake with the difficulty of his task and his groans were growing in frequency and pitch. She continued taking her time with him - slow thrusts up, slow thrusts down - and didn’t stop until she could feel his cock tightening within her.

“Don’t you dare cum, Captain,” Karn’za tossed the command over her shoulder as she settled back in his lap for a moment, to catch her breath.

She looked behind her when he didn’t respond. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head was thrown back, his throat completely bared, and his body was now thoroughly drenched with sweat. The Wrath didn’t even try to stifle a purr of appreciation. She hadn’t met members of the eugenics program who were even half as sexy as her captain was presently. She tucked the thought away to share with him at another, later, time. It was not yet time for praise, though she felt that he had earned it twice over by now.

There was one final test for him to pass…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've enjoyed what you've read so far, please come follow my original fiction on Inkitt.com!
> 
> Teaser: "Kivi is a queen in exile, pretending to be ordinary. Kæl is a reluctant king, heir to a curse. Tragedy, politics, and war bring them together. But only love will break a curse, and crown a queen."
> 
> https://www.inkitt.com/stories/romance/70037?preview=true&ref=a_420bd4bb-390d-452d-9603-d438b913e842
> 
> This is a high-fantasy romance with strong Tolkien, British Celtic, and Arthurian influences. Here's what one reader (and of Inkitt's published authors) has said about "The Uncrowned Queen": "The intricate world-building alone will please any fantasy fan; the in-depth portrayals of good people in difficult situations will draw in readers from any genre."
> 
> Please stop by, make an account (it's free, can be done with a Facebook account, and Inkitt does NOT spam), and add "The Uncrowned Queen" to your virtual book shelf. With your help, maybe one day, what once started off as a fanfiction can exist on your real-world shelf as a fully realized dream. :-)


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